TCOT Returning Revenger
by GraceBe
Summary: The sequel to "TCOT Returning Relative". Chapter 13 added. Perhaps the chapter you all have been waiting for...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: For the record, I do not own "Perry Mason", otherwise I wouldn't have to post it here. **

I owe my beta a big thank you. She gives so much and never asks for anything in return.

So this is the sequel to "TCOT Returning Relative". Took me just two years to start it. I'll try to update on a weely basis. Let me know what you think and feel about the story!**  
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**The Case of the Returning Revenger**

_"Men regard it as their right to return evil for evil and, if they cannot, feel they have lost their liberty." ~ Aristotle_

**Chapter 1**

_1968_

Paul Drake stopped the rented car and drew a deep breath, before he turned his attention to the lovely old house to his left. Nothing in this small town or this street or this home had changed. It seemed not even the season had changed. The last time he was here, it had been snowing like hell and today it was just the same. His flight had been late due to the bad weather conditions and it hadn't been easy to get here. The roads were icy and the sight was worse. A frozen hell he had entered – just like three years ago, when he had followed Perry here, because the lawyer was defending Della's little brother Ian for the murder of their own father Richard.

Even though Ian Street was innocent after all and the murder caught, the whole case was not something Paul considered a success. On the contrary, the case had split up the three of them. Perry, Della, and Paul had never been the same after Pauline Straight, the widow of Della's father, had been arrested.

Paul knew life was always changing. It was the natural flow of fate, but losing Della had been hard on him. He missed her and her wicked tongue more than he had expected. Everything had changed for the bad after she had left the office and Perry.

All because of Pauline.

Not only that she had almost killed Della when she kidnapped her. As a result of the stress and the physical exhaustion, Della had lost the child she had been expecting from Perry, a loss she had never really recovered from. Paul had never pictured Della as a mother, but after the miscarriage, he had realized how long Della had waited for the chance to be a mother and how much she suffered because the chance had been taken away from her. Perry, of course, had still insisted on marrying Della, but the independent and stubborn secretary had refused and in the end had left L.A. and the lawyer.

Almost three years ago Della had moved back home, because her brother had moved to Chicago and Mae had become too old and fragile to stay home alone. Della was now working as a secretary for a tax consultant, trying to leave her adventurous past behind, but every time Paul talked to her on the phone he couldn't help but believe that she was missing it. She was still alone, though many men showed interest in her. Not that it was easy to live a social life with someone like Mae in the background.

Paul sighed. The snow had already covered the whole front shield, but he had to get out. Della was expecting him. He had announced his visit, but she didn't know the reason for his visit and he wished it was less dangerous and less hard to communicate.

* * *

><p>"It's so good to see you," Della said warmly, as she greeted Paul with an embrace. "It's been some time."<p>

"Way too much time, Beautiful!" Paul agreed, leaned back and watched her with growing concern. To him she would always look fragile underneath her lovely exterior. "How can you stand living in this cold hell?" he added as he gave her his snow covered coat and rubbed his cold hands.

She laughed, "I grew up in this cold hell, remember? I'm used to it."

"Where's Mae?" Paul asked, as he looked around and couldn't detect the old woman.

"She's in bed," Della answered, as she returned from the closet. "She's still an early riser, but therefore she retires earlier. She's really getting weaker. The wheelchair doesn't agree with her idea of being active." Della shrugged and offered Paul the couch. A pleasant fire flickered in the fireplace and spread a very welcomed warmth in the living room.

"Why are you here, Paul?" Della wanted to know, after she had settled down next to him and passed a glass of whiskey to him. "What happened?"

He gave her a surprised look. He hadn't told her he had bad news, but apparently, she already sensed something was going on.

She smiled, "Oh, please, why would go through so much trouble to visit me in this cold hell if it wasn't important? What is it?"

"Della...," he started, bur broke off.

"Is something wrong with Perry?" she asked, alarmed when she noticed his hesitation. "Did something happen to him?"

"No, he's fine."

"Is he getting married?" Della asked, lowering her eyes to her own drink. Her thumb ran slowly over the edge of the glass.

Paul was flabbergasted. "What?"

"This town isn't the end of the world, Paul. Even here the newspapers write about the new woman at his side. Lorraine is her name, right?"

"Lorraine and Perry are not getting married," Paul cut her off quickly. "And she's not the reason I'm here. I'm here because of Pauline."

Della's thumb froze and she looked up.

"What about her?" she asked, tonelessly.

"Yesterday evening she's escaped the mental institution she has been in for the last three years. She killed a nurse and a guard on her way out..."

Della's eyes grew bigger. "What does that mean? Am I in danger?"

Paul drew a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, Beautiful, I'm afraid you are." He took her hand and squeezed it gently. "That's why I'm here. You need protection. The best would be, if Mae and you left this town and come back to Los Angeles. Steve Drumm and his men can protect you. Perry thinks..."

"Did he send you?" she asked, her mind now racing like a roller coaster. Pauline, Perry... her heart exploded in her chest and her stomach transformed into a stone.

"Yes, he wants..."

"Well, he could have told me himself what he wants." She abandoned her glass and rose. Covering her face with her hands, she started to pace up and down the room.

"That's not the point now and you know it. You and Mae have to leave this bloody town!" He jumped up and grabbed her shoulders. "I'm serious. Pauline is dangerous and we can't take any

risk... The police have no idea where she is and God knows what she's up to!"

"Tell Perry, I'm not going back to Los Angeles," Della said, staring at some spot over his right shoulder. "I'm sure the police here can protect us as well."

"But the police here..."

"I know the Lieutenant quite well..." she explained lowly, still avoiding eye contact with Paul. "I'm sure he'll do anything to protect us."

"Della, please..." He placed his hand under her chin and forced her to look at him. "You should know better than everybody else what Pauline is capable of! She killed your father and your friend! How can you stay here?"

He knew her answer before he heard it. He had known it when he saw the expression on her face the moment he had mentioned Perry.

"How can I go back?"

**~tbc~**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you sooo very much for your feedback! I hope you'll enjoy the next chapter that was (as always) edited by my loyal friend Sue.  
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**Chapter 2**

"Thank you, Paul. Promise me to talk to her again... yes, bye." Perry hung up the phone and rubbed his tired eyes. It was after midnight and he had been up since 5 a m. Yet, he doubted he would find any sleep tonight. The news of Pauline and her brutal escape from the mental hospital had caused a serious flood of adrenalin to rush through his veins and it didn't seem to stop. Every time he thought of Della and Pauline, he thought his chest would burst apart. Pauline was on the loose and that she was a threat was unmistakeable, just as Della's reaction was one he had foreseen. He had known she would refuse to come to L.A., yet her reluctance bothered him. It amazed him how much it hurt that she didn't even accept his help in a possibly life threatening situation. But she was deadly wrong if she expected him to stand by while she stubbornly risked her life and the life of her aunt.

He had pulled some strings and knew the new Lieutenant in Della's home town was a capable and experienced policeman; the problem was the number of men he could spare to protect a woman and her old, disabled aunt. He had talked to Drumm and the FBI. Lieutenant Monroe and his men would get some back up from the federal agents to protect Della and Mae.

Perry was sure that it was just a matter of time before they would hear from Pauline. The biggest mistake they could make was underestimating her. The woman had spent the last three years in custody, planning her revenge. She had a plan and the way she had lured Della's father into her web all those years ago, it was obvious, Pauline was patient. Patient enough to wait until everybody thought she had gone undercover for good. Perry knew better. Pauline wanted revenge and she wouldn't give up until she had achieved her goal.

The phone rang and he tore the receiver up to his ear.

"Yes!" He barked, his voice dark with anticipation.

"It's me, Perry."

He closed his eyes, trying to slow down his heartbeat. "Hi Lorraine," he greeted her, much calmer. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes. I know it's late..." she said slowly. "How are you? You were so absent-minded this afternoon..."

"I'm fine. Tired, I guess."

"Did you hear anything about this woman. What was her name? Pauline?"

"No," he answered. "The police didn't have any news. Seems she's vanished."

"I see..." Hesitating, she added, "What about Paul? Did he arrive safely?"

"Yes, we just talked," Perry said, hoping she wouldn't ask about Della. "The weather up there is awful."

He knew she wasn't interested in the weather, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her that Paul had achieved nothing so far. The situation was confusing enough, but the news about Pauline's escape had reached him shortly before lunch and Lorraine was already in the office when Paul stormed in.

"I understand. Maybe you should get some sleep," she said warmly. "You need your strength."

"Maybe you're right. How's Lilly?" he asked, and couldn't help smiling when he thought of the little girl that was Lorraine's daughter.

"She's fast asleep, but she missed you telling her good night. I'm not the best story teller."

"Tell her, I'll soon be back to tell her a story."

"I hope so," Lorraine whispered. "Good night, Perry."

"Good night."

* * *

><p>Two hours after Paul had left her house, Della sat, her chin resting on her knees, on the couch in the living room and stared into the slowly dying flames. Paul had insisted on staying with her and Mae until the police made the necessary arrangements for their protection and so she had prepared Ian's old room for him.<p>

When the PI had announced himself she had expected that something was wrong. Pauline had never really left her thoughts, but that she had actually escaped and was out there somewhere, perhaps planning another act of vengeance, scared her.

There was something that she hadn't told Paul. Something she remembered when he talked about Pauline being on the run...

In the afternoon she had done some errands and while she stowed everything in the trunk of her car, she had felt how the small hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. The chill had rushed up and down her spine and as she had looked around, her eyes had met the gaze of a blond woman who stood on the other side of the street. Confused, Della had blinked and the woman was gone, as if she had never been there.

What if...

Della shuddered and wrapped her arms around her knees. It couldn't have been Pauline. The time gap between her escape and Della's hallucination was too short. She had been dreaming, or her intuition had tried to warn her. She felt caught off guard and she hated that the mere thought of Pauline could do this to her.

Della had returned home to find some peace and even though she should have known better than to run away, she had tried to move on. Only that moving on hadn't worked. Tonight when she realized Perry had sent Paul instead of telling her himself what had happened, she knew, there was no way she ever learned to move on from Perry, their past and the child they lost.

"Shouldn't you be in bed by now?"

Mae's rusty voice caused her to jerk around. The old woman was leaning on her crutches and looked at Della.

"You shouldn't walk around the house on those," Della said, trying not to sound as rough as she wanted to. She really hated when Mae sneaked up on her like this.

"So, you allowed Paul Drake to stay here?" Mae asked and Della knew her aunt had heard every word the two of them had exchanged earlier. It had been a bad idea to set up a room for Mae in the ground floor.

"Yes."

"What will the neighbors say?"

"I don't care and you shouldn't either," Della returned firmly. "Unless you prefer to protect yourself with these crutches of yours in case Pauline wants to pay us a visit."

"I just think we should rather stick to Lieutenant Monroe and his men. Can't he send some of them?"

"I'm sure he will do so tomorrow. Paul and I will talk to him in the morning."

"And what does Mason say?" Mae asked. "It's strange that he didn't show up himself to talk to you. But maybe his new lady friend isn't happy about him taking care of his ex lover."

"You enjoy being nasty, do you?" Della asked, annoyed.

"No, I don't, but I wonder how healthy it is for you that Perry Mason sends his best friend to_ take care_ of you."

"Paul is my friend, too."

Mae snorted in a derogatory manner, "I guess it takes more than friendship to come up here in this snow in the middle of the night."

* * *

><p>Lorraine Bertrand emptied her glass of hot milk and put it in the sink. She rubbed her tired eyes and sighed lowly. It didn't feel right. She was strangely agitated, though she needed sleep. Perry had sounded strange on the phone and her instincts told her, he was slipping away from her. From the moment Paul had told him about this Pauline, Perry's behavior had changed. Lorraine was sure, he hadn't even noticed what they were eating or talking about. He had never really spoken about Della and her family and even when she asked him, he only provided sketchy information. She knew about his failed relationship with Della and it had taken an invitation for lunch to make Gerty spill the beans about the sad details. She knew that wasn't right, but she needed to know, if Perry really wanted her or if he was just searching for a replacement for Della Street.<p>

She had come to the conclusion he wasn't seeing a second Della in her. He was always the gentleman, always kind, always listening, always attentive, yet sometimes when he thought she wasn't looking at him, he became absent-minded and pensive.

Lorraine knew something about heart ache. When her husband died shortly before their daughter was born, she had thought she would die as well. Only the new life underneath her heart had reminded her about the value of life. When Perry had entered her life, she had recognized another lost soul in him and she had thought they could move on together, but since this afternoon, her hope was starting to fade.

Lorraine shook her head and decided to go to bed. She left the kitchen and switched off the lights. As usual before she went to bed, she opened the door to her daughter's room to check on her. The first thing she noticed was the cold. An awful breeze was reaching her, as she stepped into the dark room. The window was open, the curtains moving. Her heart stopped beating for several seconds. She knew the bed was empty, before she looked at it.

**~~tbc~~**

**Comments are love...  
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	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you for all the lovely reviews so far! I really appreciate that you all take your time to leave me a message!_ _Another big thank you goes as always to my beta._** Love ya, kiddo!  
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**Chapter 3**

After a night that Della spent pretty much without sleep, she prepared an early breakfast. Paul looked as if he hadn't slept much himself when he showed up in the kitchen. Only Mae was calm, when she wheeled herself towards the table.

"Good morning, Mrs. West. It's been some time," Paul greeted her when he sank onto the chair.

"Indeed, Mr. Drake. I hope you felt comfortable in Ian's old room. Della put so much effort into making it comfortable for you!"

Paul and Della exchanged an amused gaze.

"Of course, I did," Paul returned, eager not to sound too quizzical.

Della poured the coffee and the unusual trio spent a quiet breakfast together. Paul wasn't in the mood to address anything relevant, such as security arrangements and armed protection, as long as Mae was sitting next to them. He knew the old woman wouldn't be amused about the upcoming police protection. The lady was a tough cookie and Perry Mason was the only outsider who could handle her, because he wasn't intimidated by her.

"Could I use your phone again?" he asked Della, after he finished his coffee.

"Of course."

Mae watched him as he left the room and then she said, "I've never seen him so quiet. Maybe he wasn't happy with my presence."

"Maybe he's just tired," Della returned and rose to clean the table. Her gaze fell on the window over the sink. The snow fall had again increased. She sighed wearily while Mae continued her little tirade.

"I think I heard him snoring all night long."

"If you say so."

Mae opened her mouth to add something, but she was interrupted by Paul who returned with quick steps from the living room. His facial expression had never been more serious.

"Something wrong?" Della asked worried, knowing something was definitely wrong.

Paul sighed, already tired of the day that hadn't even started. "You might say so."

* * *

><p>One hour later Della and Paul entered the police station. Lieutenant Gabriel Monroe, a tall, slim figure with dark hair was already waiting for them. He asked them into his office where he carefully closed the door, offering them a seat, before he sank in his own chair.<p>

Paul had done his homework. Gabriel Monroe was a good policeman. Highly efficient and dedicated. He was divorced, no children and before he moved back to his home town, he worked in New York City and Chicago.

"I already got a call from the FBI this morning. It seems that Pauline Straight has vanished from the face of the Earth."

"She'll turn up like a spider that hides underneath a fat stone," Paul predicted darkly. "Listen, we have a situation in Los Angeles that could be connected to her escape."

"I'm all ears," Monroe said. "Go ahead."

"Last night, the daughter of a friend of Perry Mason, the lawyer who defended Miss Street's brother three years ago, vanished from her mother's apartment. The window of her room was open, the girl missing and it's unlikely she ran away."

"Has anyone contacted the mother or Mr. Mason?" Monroe asked.

"Not yet."

"But you think it's possible that Mrs. Straight could be behind the kidnapping?"

"Let's say an abduction of someone close to Mr. Mason so soon after her escape is a little too convenient for our taste," Paul answered.

"I see..." Monroe turned his attention to Della who had been listening attentively. "Well, Miss Street, the federal agents will arrive this afternoon – or let's say, we hope their plane will arrive in the afternoon. The weather conditions haven't improved since yesterday – on the contrary."

"I'm a bit confused," Della admitted. "If the FBI has problems to reach this town, how is it supposed to be possible for a fugitive who is wanted all over the country?"

"As far as I've understood, it was impossible for her to escape from the institution she was in as well," Monroe said, somehow darkly. "We won't take risks. Until the federal agents are here, my men will be your new shadow. One car will be in front of your house and..." he stopped and looked at Paul. "How long will you stay? I assume you're expected in L.A.?"

"Not yet," Paul answered with a sigh. "I'll stay until the FBI has arrived – maybe longer. We don't know if the kidnapping of Lilly Bertrand isn't just a scheme to deflect our attention. That's why Mr. Mason and I agreed to go on with our original plan."

"I see," Monroe nodded and then he rose. "I suggest we talk to the officers who will accompany you from now on."

* * *

><p>Outside Paul opened the car door for Della and she slipped in. As he sank into his seat a police car showed up behind them. Paul sighed as he saw them in the rear mirror.<p>

"This is going to be fun."

"So," Della started. "Now that you know I'm in safe hands, shouldn't you go back to L.A.?"

"Perry and I agree..." he started, but she interrupted him.

"If this girl is in trouble, Perry will need your help in Los Angeles," she said, worried.

"Della, it's most likely that the kidnapping of Lilly is nothing but a trap and it's only purpose being to get me back to L.A.."

"I agree, that's possible, but still..." she turned her face away, as her eyes became watery. "That poor girl and her mother. They must be scared to death."

"Lorraine's a strong woman. She'll keep her head up and so will you," Paul said and patted her hand. "And now stop telling me to leave. I'm sure, Mae will be delighted I'm going to stay a few days longer."

"She already complained about your snoring," Della said with a light smile.

"You see, she's starting to like me!"

It was almost midnight when Paul retired for the night. As he went upstairs, he took one last look out of the window and said, "Interesting. Monroe is our guard for the night."

"He is?" Della asked, surprised, while she cleared up the coffee cups and glasses from the coffee table.

"Yes, they've just changed shift. Efficient man, that Monroe. Good night, Beautiful."

"Good night, Paul."

Della continued to tidy up and after ten minutes when she heard Paul leaving the bathroom and closing the door to his bedroom, she opened the closet to get her jacket and a scarf. Warmly dressed against the cold outside, she sneaked out of the front door and stepped out on the porch. She only had to wait for a few moments before the door of police car opened and Lieutenant Monroe rushed over to her.

"Anything wrong?" he asked, as he reached her. "You should be inside."

"No," Della shook her head. "I just wanted to ask you, if you and your partner need something. Coffee? Tea? Something to eat?"

"We're fine. Thank you." He gave her a smile and then his face changed back into a more serious expression. "Della, I'm sorry... I'll do my best to keep this person away from you."

"I know you will," she returned warmly. "Just promise me, you won't stay up every night from now on just to protect Aunt Mae and me."

"The idea doesn't sound as bad as you might think. I would do anything for an old friend."

Della shook her head and smiled. "I was afraid you would say that. I'll bring you some coffee for breakfast."

"That sounds good. You know, I..."

He was cut off by the sound of crashing glass and a scream that tore the night apart. It came from the inside of the house. Both jerked around and stormed towards the closed door.

"That's Aunt Mae," Della gasped, as Monroe stormed inside.

**~tbc~**

**Damn, I think it's safe to assume that nobody's safe...  
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	4. Chapter 4

**Here we go with the next installment that was again edited by my friend Gemenied. Every mistake you may find is caused by no one but me. Enjoy! **

**Chapter 4**

The night air in the cloister was cold and smelled of snow and freshly burned wood. In her opinion, winter nights weren't as romantic as novels claimed they were and love wasn't as vitalizing as people believed.

Tonight was one of those nights when the cold threatened to consummate her and she was convinced the reason for the cold inside her was the burden resting on her soul, the shadow guarding her heart. It haunted her and caused her to hasten through the dark, cold corridors of the convent, although she should be in her cell at this hour of the night.

In a few hours, rushed steps would disturb the silence of the old walls and a new day would start. Time enough for her to find the kind of solace that only the silence of the night and the feeling of the beads between her fingers, while she prayed the rosary, could give her. Sometimes, she just needed this time for herself, because she had to collect her thoughts, but tonight peaceful meditation was not enough. Tonight she needed the kind of forgiveness that only the sight of the cross offered.

* * *

><p>Shivering, Della stood in her aunt's bedroom and looked at the broken window and the fragments of glass that still covered parts of the floor and the bed. The cold wind that came in from the outside was nagging at her like a rat that had found her first meal after a very long time. It had stopped snowing and now a clear blue sky and bitter cold moved in.<p>

The window needed to be repaired as quickly as possible, but until one hour ago an army of policemen had been besetting the house, even though there wasn't much to discover.

The massive stone, the doll and the short but unmistakable note tied to it had been taken by the police, but the examination for forensic evidence was a waste of time in Dellas' eyes. Pauline was responsible for the abduction of Lorraine Bertrand's daughter, as they had expected it from the very beginning, and Pauline played games with them, enjoyed being in charge.

Perry and Lorraine were already on their way and thank God the weather conditions had improved. She wrapped the long, woolen scarf more tightly around her body. Soon she would have to face Perry again. Soon she would have to face Lorraine, the mother of the little girl that was in grave danger. Lorraine and Lilly surely hadn't signed up for this and it hurt to know that she, Della, was the reason for the despair the little family was in. Again she was the one who turned Perry's life upside down, and made it impossible for him to go on with his life as he had imagined it.

She heard steps behind her and turned her head. It was Paul. He stopped in the doorway, visibly uncomfortable with the cold, messed up bedroom and the concern written all over his face.

"Come on, Della," he said. "It's way too cold in here. Join us in the living room. I made a fire; you must be frozen by now."

"I'm fine."

"But Mae's not. The old dragon received the shock of her life when the stone ended on her bed last night. As a result, she's grumpier than ever."

Della made her face. "Just give me a minute."

Paul sighed and approached her slowly. "Listen, Beautiful, I know you're scared, but staring at the hole in the window won't help you." He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them gently. His kind-hearted eyes lay affectionately on her and his voice was warm. "We'll get Pauline. I know you feel as if she had you, but she hasn't. I won't allow it and Perry won't either. As soon as he gets here, we'll find a way to catch her for good."

Della wasn't at all convinced of this, but she didn't want to call Paul a fool for his trust in the success of whatever the three of them did and so she returned the gentle touch and tried to make the smile she forced on her face look as if she was as confident as he was.

"I'm sure we will."

* * *

><p>When Perry and Lorraine arrived at the police station, Lt. Monroe was already busy to coordinate the search groups to locate Pauline.<p>

Perry watched him, as he briefed his men with the support of three FBI present agents, and was positively impressed when he realized that the Lieutenant was a man who knew how and what to do. Monroe had also noticed their biggest problem: Pauline obviously didn't work alone. The stone that had been thrown through Mae's window couldn't have been from Pauline herself, because between Lily's kidnapping and the throw, the roads to town and the airport had been closed. That left several options to think of: Pauline and Lilly could still be around Los Angeles and someone was here who contacted Della, or Pauline had somehow managed to get into town, but Perry doubted she was traveling with Lilly, because the police searched for them all over the country. Lilly was, thanks to her red hair, an eye-catching child and Perry didn't believe for a minute Pauline would take the risk to be seen with her.

"It's more than likely that Mrs. Straight has a partner who's here in town and does the dirty work for her." Monroe explained to the crowd of police men. "In her note she promised to contact Miss Street again in the next 24 hours, which leaves us a time frame of less than 13 hours to find her accomplice. The stone was thrown from the garden next to the empty house next to Miss Street's home, but we couldn't find any evidence that the house had lately been used by someone. Aside from that I want you to search the cabin in the mountains where Miss Street was held captive three years ago. It's possible, Pauline Straight will go back there to relive the events from back then. From now on the FBI will arrange the protection of Miss Street and her aunt, another 2 agents will lead the search groups. Thanks for your attention."

The group dissolved and Monroe instantly approached Perry and Lorraine. He greeted Perry with a hand shake and introduced himself.

"Mr. Mason, I'm glad you got here so quickly. Mrs. Bertrand, I'm sorry we have to meet under these circumstances."

"Thanks, Lieutenant," Perry said. "I take it, you have no clue who could be Pauline's accomplice?"

"Unfortunately not," Monroe admitted. "As far as we can say, she hasn't contacted anyone here in town. The FBI searched through her mail, but there's no evidence, she ever corresponded with anyone from here during the last three years. The agents also talk to the staff of the institution, but so far no one seems suspicious. Now, we are concentrating on people who moved here in the last few months or stayed here for vacation. But as you can imagine that takes a lot of time."

"I see. How's Miss Street's aunt doing?"

Monroe's forehead wrinkled, as he eyed Mason for a moment, before he answered more stiffly.

"Mrs. West is fine... A bit shaken, but as I understand it, she's survived worse. And just for the record, her niece is doing fine as well. She's a strong woman. We increased the number of people who guard the ladies."

"Thanks, Lieutenant." Perry said, apparently oblivious to Monroe's colder attitude. "I'm glad to hear they're in good hands."

"That's not necessary. We just do our job." Monroe turned his head and looked at Lorraine, who looked pale and overly tired. "So, why don't we sit down? We can talk in my office. You look as if you need a coffee."

* * *

><p>Della leaned against the window frame and looked out. Outside at the sidewalk one police car and two black cars, screaming FBI, were parked.<p>

"Why do I feel like the prisoner?" she asked and turned to Paul who stood at the mantelpiece, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"These men are here protect you. They won't bother you."

"I know it's not their intention, but I don't feel comfortable."

"Nobody would, but right now our options are limited." Paul abandoned his cup and took a look at his watch. "Perry should be here soon."

He watched Della closely, while she decided not to react to his statement. She had crossed her arms over her chest and stared again out of the window.

"I know this is bothering you, but it's not your fault Pauline chose this little girl."

"It is my fault, Paul. You know, I'm not a violent person, but I really wish I had not missed Pauline, when I had the chance to shoot her."

"Stop torturing yourself. You know you don't mean that."

"Believe me, I do mean it. And now I have to face the mother of a small child who's probably worried sick, because she doesn't know if she sees her daughter again, because of me."

"Nobody blames you. Perry doesn't blame you and Lorraine won't blame you either. I know her. She's a good person."

Della shrugged, "Well, we'll know very soon how she feels about me, right?"

* * *

><p>Monroe led Perry and Lorraine out of his office. "As soon as we have the slightest hint where your daughter is, I'll call you personally, Mrs. Bertrand," he said and gave her a warm smile.<p>

"Thank you," Lorraine said and managed to return the smile. "Thank you for everything."

"There's no need to thank me. Mr. Mason." He shook Perry's hand, but this time the smile died on his face.

"We stay in touch," Perry nodded, keeping a smile for himself as well. It was obvious that these two men would never manage to be more than polite with each other. There was nothing but mutual dislike that was reined in by the mutual respect they had for each other's profession.

Outside the building Perry walked Lorraine to the car he had rented. He opened the passenger's door for her, but didn't let her enter when he noticed a small, brown package on her seat.

"Wait," he ordered, instantly suspicious, and looked around.

"What's in it?" Lorraine asked, trembling.

Carefully Perry crouched down into the car and examined the package without touching it. There was no address, no sender, nothing.

"No idea, but it can't be a coincidence it ended up in our car. Let's get Monroe out here."

Ten minutes later, the package lay on Monroe's desk and waited to be opened.

"It could be a silly joke of some kids," Monroe suggested, while he put on some gloves, though it was obvious that he didn't seem to believe it himself. "One officer saw a boy with a package like this on the other side of the street."

"Just open it!" Lorraine begged, blindly searching for Perry's hand.

"All right, all right."

Monroe took a small knife and cut the small strings. Then he slowly unpacked the wrapping paper until a wooden box appeared. Lorraine bit her lower lip, as Monroe lifted the cover and when Perry's eyes first caught the contents of the box, he tried to turn Lorraine around so that she wouldn't see it as well, but it was too late. She screamed at the top of her lungs and Perry held her close to him, as she started crying.

**~tbc~**

**So how will it feel for Perry and Della to see each other again? How will Lorraine react when she meets Della for the first time? Oh, and what could be in the mysterious package?  
><strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm sorry, I'm late, but the chapter was a pain in the ... Thanks to Gemenied for making it better than it was.  
><strong>

**Chapter 5**

Moments like the one she just experienced were never accompanied by fanfares, and the time certainly didn't stop progressing, just because the man she loved walked through the door. Nothing life altering happened, no earthquake shook her up, no tornado tore her off her feet. Maybe her heart forgot to beat for a few seconds, because his sight after such a long time overwhelmed her, but aside from that, she was calm. The situation demanded that she remained as level-headed as possible. She owed the little girl who was in grave danger that she didn't lose her head.

It felt so unreal to have him sitting in her kitchen again. Della did her best not to stare at Perry, but she knew she was doing a miserable job of it and so she decided to keep herself busy with coffee cups and napkins while Paul, Perry, and Lorraine talked about the package and its disturbing contents.

Ever since Paul had told her, Pauline was out there somewhere, Della had seen the train that was coming closer and closer, heading towards her, ready to hit her. But she had to admit that she hadn't imagined to what lengths Pauline would go to bring her down. The energy the woman dedicated to revenge was beyond anything Della had ever imagined and she had thought she had seen it all. She had seen evil taking the stand in court, had heard its excuses and laments, and had learned to accept it as part of life in general, but Pauline alone had made it part of Della's life.

Now, that Pauline had given them her list of demands, the fear Della had tried so hard to keep at bay for the last few days, was tangible. It hung like a dark cloud over the small group at the kitchen table.

"So," Paul said, as he lit himself a new cigarette. "Pauline told us what she wants but there's no way she'll get it."

"Of course, Pauline's claim is out of question, but we have to think about a way to get close to her," Perry said. "The FBI has already made a suggestion, but as far as I am concerned, there's no way this will happen."

Though she had turned her back to the group, Della felt Perry's eyes penetrating her back, as he spoke. His voice was businesslike and level as always when he talked a case and she hated it. She wasn't just a case.

The coffee cups rattled as she knocked over the sugar pot. The small white crystals spread all over the tablet and Della clutched her hands together, hoping to get her shaking hands back under control. Even though she didn't have to see the contents of the package Pauline had smuggled inside Perry's car, she felt sick when she thought about it.

"At least we know now, how she could escape the mental institution," Paul said. "Pauline watched her different guards, picked the one with the weakest character and threw herself at him. Then she waited for the right moment and convinced him to help with her escape. As a thank you, she kills him and delivers his pinky in a wooden box."

Lorraine winced at Paul's harsh words and he raised his hand, apologizing for his statement.

"Monroe told me they found his body at the cabin in the woods," Perry said. "But there was no sign of Pauline or Lilly. I guess, she wanted us to find the body so quickly, because she wants to show us how serious she is about her demands."

"But she has to be somewhere around here," Paul sighed and stubbed his cigarette. "And we'll find her."

Having enough after all, Della whirled around. "Oh for heaven's sake!" she said, so angry that her voice was shaking. "We all know what Pauline wants and it's time we name it!"

"Della," Perry interrupted, but Della didn't pay attention to him and looked straight at Lorraine who hadn't said a thing ever since she had entered Della's house. "There's no way we'll exchange Lilly for you or anyone else!" Perry declared while his eyes switched between Lorraine and Della.

"Perry's right," Paul agreed. "There has to be another way to get Lilly back."

"I think this is something, Lorraine and I should discuss alone. Don't you agree, Mrs. Bertrand?"

* * *

><p>Bishop Stefan Corro and Sister Maria Andrea took a walk in the monastery garden. It was a cloudy, cold day and the fresh snow creaked under their feet, as they slowly walked along the path that led away from the old church.<p>

"Your Mother Superior told me she found you in the church this morning," Stefan said. "Deeply asleep on a bench."

"I couldn't sleep and went into the church to pray," she explained. "I must have fallen asleep."

"Everybody here is worried about you. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No, I don't think so," the nun answered sadly. "Nobody can help me. Not even you." She stopped and placed her gloved hand on Stefan's arm. "And how do you feel? I'm not the only lost soul around here."

"I'm holding up," he answered and gave her a smile, before he took her hand and squeezed it.

"That's good. It's the only way."

* * *

><p>"I wish I could say 'I wish we had met under different circumstances'," Lorraine said, after the men had reluctantly left the kitchen. She had risen from her chair and paced the kitchen, her arms wrapped around her body. "But I doubt either of us would believe it." She laughed nervously.<p>

"Probably not," Della agreed. She drew a deep breath, crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the kitchen counter. For a few moments both women just looked at each other. Both noticed the resemblance between them and both knew that under different circumstance they could have become friends.

"I was always curious about you. I even talked to Gertie about you... I wanted to know why Perry keeps your picture in the last drawer of his desk and why this Christmas Card you gave him once is hidden inside the sleeve of a Louis Armstrong record." Lorraine shrugged in an apologizing way and shook her head. "I knew you were special to him, yet you're not what I imagined. Actually, nothing in my life became what I imagined to be in the last couple of years. But who am I telling that?"

Lorraine sank back on her chair and Della crossed the kitchen and sank down next to her. She placed her hand on Lorraine's arm and said, "You have no idea how sorry I am and how much I want to help you."

Lorraine avoided to raise her head to face Della. Instead she stared at Della's hand on her arm. Her voice was low and broke, as she spoke again, "I have to admit, I have no idea how to deal with this situation. My daughter's been kidnapped by a psychopathic killer who wants to take revenge on you and Perry, and her life depends on you and your decision."

"There's no doubt about my decision, Mrs. Bertrand. Pauline will only release your daughter if I turn myself over to her. I know Pauline and what she's capable of and if we don't agree with her terms she'll kill Lilly. I won't let that happen."

* * *

><p>Perry and Paul didn't speak while they waited in the living room. Paul stood at the fireplace and stared into the flames while Perry looked through the window.<p>

For a reason Perry couldn't explain, Paul was rather hostile towards him and that bothered him. If he ever needed a friend then now. He was torn between the wish to keep Della as safe as possible and wanting Lilly back at all costs. Lorraine counted on him, but he had to admit that the lengths Pauline went to get back at Della shocked him. He was scared and hoped Paul could ease that fear, but Paul 's full attention was on Della. He was living in her house and his whole concern seemed to revolve around her. What could he make of that? He forbade himself to think the idea through and was almost glad, when he heard Mae's voice behind him.

"Counselor," she greeted him and he turned to face her. She had grown older and seemed weaker, but her voice was still strong and the way she sat in her wheelchair gave her an exalted look.

"Hello Mae," he returned and tried to smile. "I hope you feel better."

"Frankly, I don't, but that isn't the question here, is it?"

"And what is the question?" Perry asked.

"The question is, will you exchange my niece for a little girl, so that you and your new girl friend can ride into the sunset?"

**~tbc~**

**Mae is one mean old lady, but damn she has a point, hasn't she?  
><strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**So, here we go... I already apologize for the uncorrect use of the history of women within the FBI who weren't allowed to become agents until the late 70s. Must be the feminist in me ;-) **

**Thanks to my beta who (again) did a great job! **

**Happy Easter to all of you and feel free to leave me a comment after reading!  
><strong>

**Chapter 6**

"I won't allow it!" Gabriel Monroe's voice was hard and unmistakably loud, as he spoke them. Della had expected him to disagree with her decision, but she hadn't expected him to be this angry. Usually Gabriel was a man of composure, but tonight he was nothing but furious and did nothing to hide that anger. He paced Della's living room like a caged tiger while he ranted.

"That's not your decision to make, Gabriel," Della told him calmly. "It's mine and if we can get the child back, I'll do it."

"Pauline will kill you!" Gabriel hissed. "Do you really think some stupid bulletproof vest will save you?"

"No, but I certainly trust in the local and federal forces and their know-how," Della returned and rose from her armchair near the fireplace. She crossed the room, took Gabriel's hands, stopped him from pacing and said, "We have a plan, haven't we? I doubt Pauline has waited over three years just to kill me, right after she sees me... you'll have time to overwhelm her once Lilly is safe."

"It's too risky," Gabriel remained stubborn, though his voice softened a bit. "I can't believe this lawyer of yours agrees with this insane plan cooked up by you and the FBI folks!"

"It wasn't Perry's decision either," Della explain as patiently as possible. "He's as angry with me as you are."

"I'm not angry with _you_, Della!" Gabriel clarified. "I'm worried! We've known each other for how long now? 30 years? You were the first girl I kissed, dammit! I don't want you to risk your life for anyone!"

"Look, I really appreciate what you're trying to do!" Della said. "But what would you do, if some psychotic person kidnapped a small innocent child just to get back at you?"

"You've got no reason to feel guilty. Whatever happened to Pauline was your father's fault and he paid dearly for it."

"Yes, he did, but I won't let Lilly and her mother pay for his sins. Just promise me you'll do your best to get me out of her clutches." Her eyes begged him and he drew a deep breath.

"All right, Della." He raised his hand, stroked a nonexistent strand back behind her ear and said, "I will. And after that you owe me a self cooked dinner."

* * *

><p>He loved working at night, when the ordinariate was deserted, and he finally had the time to catch up on the paperwork. Usually his days were filled with meetings and appointments that let him believe that he wasn't a priest anymore, but some kind of manager who took care of funds and real estate instead of the people who were dedicated to the same church and the same God.<p>

Bishop Stefan Corro sat behind his large desk, but the pile of papers only illuminated by the soft shine of the old desk lamp were still untouched. Tonight he just concentrated on the glass of cognac in his hand. He couldn't focus on his work, because there were too many things on his mind. Every time he tried to focus on something, he became diverted by the memory of his visit[or] this morning. As always, when he had met Maria Andrea, his mind was occupied with her for the rest of the day. It was an odd feeling, one he couldn't get used to, but one he couldn't ignore either.

Her story was one that couldn't leave him untouched, just as her tender beauty was something he couldn't disregard against his better judgment.

Only few people knew that Sister Maria Andrea's real name was Claire Channing. Seven years ago, the dark haired woman had served as one of first female FBI agents under the reign of J. Edgar Hoover before she retired to become a nun.

In 1962 she was assigned to a case that dealt with a child abduction in San Diego. Emma Walter, the 5 year old daughter of an oil magnate, was kidnapped and later found dead, because the handing over of the money failed, and one of the kidnappers got killed in the process. As an act of revenge the body of the girl was placed in front of the company building in the heart of San Diego. The FBI located the kidnappers and Claire went undercover to infiltrate the group. She gained the trust of the leader and eventually became his mistress. Stefan had never asked about the details of her assignment, but he had his suspicions about it.

As the cell planned the next child abduction, Claire became part of the team who took the child from the family home at night. Claire had warned her FBI colleagues, but as the operation went wrong and one agent pulled the trigger too early, one kidnapper shielded himself with the girl and a federal bullet hit her right in the head, while Claire was shot in her shoulder by another fellow agent. What followed were 24 hours of horror, because the kidnappers had taken the rest of the family and Claire whose cover had blown, hostage. The leader could flee the scene, before the agents stormed the building. Thinking he left her dying, after he had shot her in the stomach, he had escaped. Claire had barely survived and had decided to leave the FBI to become a nun, sick of crime, men, and violence. Of course her new profession made it easy for her to keep a low profile, but deep down inside she always lived with the fear to be found.

Stefan had known her for the last five years, since she had started working as his secretary, after he had become bishop. Sister Maria Andrea was an efficient, lighthearted person who had left her past behind, and simply enjoyed her new life. At least that was what he thought.

Until today he couldn't explain why nobody (him included) had seen it coming. He just knew he felt guilty, because he knew she had been in emotional trouble and had hoped she would cope with it. She couldn't and had suffered a nervous breakdown. Stefan had made sure she received proper treatment, and had granted her wish to withdraw to a nunnery where she had time to evaluate her life. But what if time didn't help to heal her wounds? What if some scars never really stopped hurting?

* * *

><p>Perry and Paul stood on the porch of Della's house and smoked their cigarettes in uncomfortable silence. Lieutenant Monroe was still inside the house, but he had stopped yelling for some time now. Perry assumed that Della had convinced him to go on with their plan. It bothered him that neither Monroe nor Della had filled him in about their relationship. Paul had told him that Monroe had been born and had lived here until he moved away to attend college. He was about Della's age, so how big was the chance both had met in school? After his divorce Monroe had returned some years ago, about the time Della had moved back and now he was leading the investigation around Pauline's reappearance in town. He could count two and two together and so had Paul.<p>

"I wonder why she didn't tell me, they knew each other beforehand."

"As long as he isn't an old acquaintance of Pauline's..."

"Impossible," Paul said. "I checked him out. They never even met."

The men were interrupted by the sound of the shutting front door. Monroe passed them with quick steps. "Good night, Gentlemen."

"Monroe!" Mason yelled after him, causing the cop to stop.

"There's no way to talk her out of it," he answered, before Perry could ask. "But I think you should talk to her." Then he left without looking back.

"You heard the man," Paul said. "Talk to her."

Perry filled his lungs with the cold night air, as if he needed to brace himself for the forthcoming conversation, then he threw his cigarette in the snow and went inside.

He found Della in the armchair by the fireplace. Her arms were wrapped around her knees. As if having him around was the most normal thing in the world, she didn't even raise her head, as he crossed the room. Finally, he had the time to watch her closely, because so far he hadn't dared to look at her. She hadn't changed a bit, aside from the fact that her face had lost a little of its usual lighthearted expression. But now the glowing shadows of the flames were dancing on her dark hair, bathing it in a golden light that almost shone like a halo. To him she would never age or lose her beauty.

"So, you're the joker in this?" Della asked and raised her head from the top of her knees. "I should have known Gabriel wouldn't be the last visitor for tonight. How is it you're back?"

"Isn't it obvious? I still think there are other options than serving you on a silver platter right to Pauline's feet," Perry said, as he took off his coat.

"We've discussed this today ad nauseum. Pauline won't release Lilly otherwise."

"You know there are other ways to resolve this situation. We can still find her. She has to be somewhere around this town."

Perry pulled the second armchair to the fireplace so that he could look straight into Della's face while they talked.

"But otherwise we would risk Lilly's life. My decision is final."

"And what about the people who don't want to watch you risking your life?" he asked lowly. Della who had stared into the flames for the last couple of minutes turned her head. He wasn't looking at her. Unlikely for him, he was staring at the tips of his shoes, his hands folded. The shadows of the flames danced in his hair that was grayer than she remembered it.

"Does Lorraine know you're here?" she asked, ignoring his question completely.

"Yes, and she isn't happy with my intentions."

"Who can blame her? Perry, I gave her my promise. I won't break it."

"And I think you should give your friend Gabriel the chance to find Pauline."

"My friend?"

"Don't try to fool me... This is his hometown, as it is yours. He's about your age and he was quite hostile towards me, when we arrived. He knows you better than the two of you want anyone to know and I wonder why."

"Cross examination, Counselor?"

"Human curiosity."

Their eyes met in the shine of the flickering fire and for a moment he just waited for her reaction. To his surprise, he recognized a familiar amusement in her gaze. "We dated in High School," she explained. "But nobody knew, because his parents were protestants and didn't want him to date a catholic girl. The other reason is probably sneaking behind the door, eavesdropping on us now."

"I see."

"It's not easy to keep anything to yourself in this town - not even a harmless friendship."

"But he still can't convince you to use your common sense when it comes to Pauline."

"I'm using my common sense, Perry. You don't know Pauline the way I do. She'll kill that girl, if I don't cooperate."

Perry sighed exhausted. "I wish you had shown that much bravery when I asked you to marry me," he complained bitterly.

For a moment her heart stopped beating and she wondered if he had really said these words. "That's not fair."

"But it's the truth. You've been running away from me for three years now. First you don't even tell me you're pregnant, then you reluctantly agree to marry me and after you lose our child, you decide to break off our engagement, because in your eyes the only reason for a wedding is dead. Where I come from we call that 'running away'. Well, one day Lilly and Lorraine will surely thank you for what you've done for them, but I wonder why you risk your life for a girl you never met, when you denied me the only thing I ever asked you for – becoming my wife."

Tears swelled in her eyes, as he finished his speech. "You know, I never..." she started, but he cut her off.

"Paul will bring you to the police station. From there we'll go to the handover location."

Without looking at her again, he rose and helped himself to his coat. Right next to the warm fire she started feeling incredibly cold, as the front door closed and he left her house.

**~tbc~**

**I know the last scene is mean, but hey, before things can get better, they have to get worse, right?  
><strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**A big hug to Sue for the speedy editing and for you readers a new chapter. Thanks for reading and don't forget, comments are love...  
><strong>

**Chapter 7**

"_Will you exchange my niece for a little girl, so that you and your new girl friend can ride into the sunset?"_

'I don't want to, but perhaps I have to.' Perry had never said it and the longer he had thought about it, the more he knew, he could never do it. The choice was impossible. A devious task, and he wondered how much Pauline de facto knew about all of them to know how she could affect them the most.

His thought didn't give him a rest and he hadn't slept a wink. Actually, he hadn't even tried. How could he?

Everything about the situation bothered him. Pauline's demands, Della's decision to follow them, and his own bad conscious. The evening before he had blown it completely. When he had entered Della's house, his intention was to smooth things over between them. He wanted to convince her to change her mind, but thanks to the jealousy of the two men who seemed closer to her now than he ever was and the painful memories connected to their split up, he had lashed out at her. His words had been unforgivable and self centered considering their situation. A girl's life was at stake while he tried to mend his broken heart.

For the rest of the night he had paced his room like a caged animal, contemplating whether to go back to her house to apologize while Mae's words went on haunting him.

"_Will you exchange my niece for a little girl, so that you and your new girl friend can ride into the sunset?"_

No, he didn't want to but Della had once again proven that she didn't depend on him. She had drifted away from him, to a place where he couldn't touch her. It could be self protection on her part. The wish to stay strong. Or she simply didn't care for him anymore, after everything that had gone wrong between them.

'Death didn't part people', he thought bitterly. 'Life parted them.' And in their case life and death had formed an alliance to tear them apart.

Maybe they had been cursed from the moment it started. From the moment they had crossed the line during the night the fatal Janet Brent case had closed in on them, their relationship had taken a disastrous turn.

Maybe he had blown it much, much earlier than he was ready to admit.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you agree with Della's insane plan, Mr. Drake!" Mae ranted. "How can you let her do this? She doesn't owe this woman and her daughter anything! But I should have known Mason wouldn't do anything to change her mind. I've always said, he was just using her. What decent man keeps his secretary as his mistress and sends her to the hills when she loses his child?"<p>

"You know that's not the point here, Mrs. West!" Paul returned angrily. "Della wants the exchange, because she feels responsible for Pauline's actions! There's nothing Perry or I could have done or said to change her mind!"

"It was my brother-in-law who brought this insane woman into our lives!" Mae yelled. "Della doesn't have to pay his debts."

"Well, apparently, she thinks she has to! In case you haven't noticed yet, your niece is a very independent, stubborn woman." He scoffed. "I really wonder where she's got that from!" He stubbed out his cigarette and pushed his fists back in the pockets of his trousers. He was as frustrated as Mae was. The whole situation was a mess and he was a helpless observer.

Mae's mouth opened, as if she was ready for a nasty reply, but it was Della who entered the living room and answered for her, "I think that's obvious, Paul. Are we ready to go?" she asked, buttoning her coat.

"No, we aren't ready," Paul returned. "I still think it's the worst idea you've ever had!"

"Does that mean I'll have to drive myself?" Della asked and established eye contact with Paul, pleading with him not to let her down. Of course, he wouldn't. He sighed wearily, "Of course not. But I want you to know that nobody will think less of you, if you change your mind."

"No, but for a change I would like you to think about me and how I would feel if that girl died on my behalf. How would I think of myself?" She stopped, drew a deep breath and ordered softly. "Get your keys, Paul. Please. It's time."

* * *

><p>Perry's muscles were tensed to no end, his senses were set on alert. Something was wrong. There was something about Pauline's request that bothered him and kept him on his toes. He was missing something, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. He recollected the messages Pauline had sent them, tried to remember every word and every detail. The stone, the box, the finger and the corpse. Pauline had tortured and killed people. Just to make sure they knew how serious she was about Lilly and Della? Pauline had taken care of everything, every detail was planned. There were no coincidences. So why did she never care that the police was involved? Was Pauline so convinced of herself or so insane that she enjoyed playing with the authorities, risking to die in crossfire? Perry's fingers tightened around the steering wheel until his knuckles became white.<p>

Lorraine sat next to Perry in the car and waited. She waited for him to say something. Anything. She waited for reassurance, hope, love. But the longer she waited the more she realized that she wouldn't get what she needed. He was drifting away from her. She knew he had been at Della's last night, had heard him pacing in the other room for the rest of the night. His desperation hung around him like a fog clung to a bridge; otherwise he had simply stopped talking to her.

The man was torn apart and that paralyzed him. Could she blame him? Perhaps not. Did she want to blame him? Yes, she did. Wasn't he the reason that psychopathic creature had set her eyes on Lilly in the first place? She had known he was dealing with criminal law, with criminals, but how could she ever expect her daughter to be caught up in this?

"Please, say something!" she told him, trying to repress the upcoming rage getting the upper hand over her fear.

"I'm sorry," he said and stopped the car at the Police Station. "I owe you an apology."

"In want my child back, Perry. I won't allow anyone to put her in life in any more jeopardy – even if that means Della Street will suffer for it." She turned to face him and he was astonished to detect a determination in her eyes that he had never seen before.

"I can imagine how you must feel," he started, but she cut him off. "No, you can't. You don't have children and I won't blame you for that, but don't tell me, you know how I feel. Lilly is all I have left. I want her back!"

"I know. It's what I want, too."

She swallowed, and then she bent down her head, so that she didn't have to face him.

"Yes, but not at any cost. And don't deny it. Be honest with me, just this once. Della means too much to you!"

Without waiting for his answer, Lorraine pushed the car door open and climbed out of the car.

"Lorraine!" He tried to grab her hand, but she was already too far away from him.

* * *

><p>When Perry entered the station, after he had collected his thoughts, he was at first surprised to find it busy, though it was Saturday. Several officers and the FBI agents stood at a board, discussing the location of the exchange. Then he remembered it was Saturday morning. The other busy place was Monroe's office, where the Lieutenant talked to Paul and Lorraine. Della was nowhere to be seen.<p>

"Lieutenant. Paul," he greeted the men with a nod. "Where's Della?"

"One of my colleagues helps her getting the vest on," Monroe explained. "She should be ready soon."

"Where can I find her?" Perry asked, ignoring Lorraine's gaze.

"Second door on the right side," Monroe answered, pointing over his shoulder.

"Thank you," Perry said and left. He couldn't see that Lorraine stepped forward to follow him, but was stopped by Paul who placed his hand on her shoulder, signaling her to give Perry the chance to say what he probably needed to say.

* * *

><p>Perry knocked respectfully at the door and waited until it was opened by a police women.<p>

"Miss Street?" he asked. The uniformed women nodded. "She's ready."

"Can I talk to her? I'm her lawyer."

She shrugged and turned around. "Your lawyer, Miss Street." The police women passed Perry on her way out and Perry entered the room. It was an interrogation room with one table and 3 chairs. The blinds were closed, just one lamp illuminated the naked, gray walls. The air was sticky and once they were alone, it felt as if the two of them were the only people left in the building.

"I didn't know I hired you," Della welcomed him coldly. He watched her silently while she was straightening the sleeves of her jacket, then he finally said, "My advice in your case is for free."

"You made your point last night. I think, I'm done listening to you."

"No, actually, I didn't make my point last night," Perry said. Della sighed and closed her eyes.

"Not now," she hissed.

"What I didn't say last night was, that I miss you," he started, ignoring her protest. "I miss you in my office and my life. I hate to see you suffer like this and I don't want you to risk your life, because it means I could lose you forever, without even having hope left that someday you might come back to me."

Silence filled the room after he had finished his little speech.

"This isn't about me or us," Della replied hoarsely. "I wouldn't decide differently, if things were different between us."

"Not even if our child was alive?"

"That's a great deal of speculation for someone who's used to deal with facts." She raised her head and looked straight into his eyes. "You know I have to do it. I'll end well," she said and did her best to gave him a smile. "Everything is okay in the end. If it's not okay, then it's not the end," she quoted.

"I hope you're right," he replied darkly. "I couldn't bear if something happened to you."

"A lot of people will be watching out for me."

"Come here!" he ordered quickly and crossed the room. He pulled her into his embrace and held her close to him.

"It's okay," she said, as she ran with her hands over his broad back. "It's okay."

"It's time to go!" a voice behind them announced. Feeling caught red handed, Perry and Della broke apart and turned around. Paul stood in the door, and behind him a teary eyed Lorraine and Lieutenant Monroe.

**~tbc~**


	8. Chapter 8

**I know I'm running late with this puppy, but my health isn't playing nice these days and so I lack the energy I used to have. Forgive me my slow writing and says thanks to my great beta. The girl rocks!  
><strong>

**Chapter 8**

The place Pauline had chosen for the exchange was one Perry could have foreseen. She obviously had a sense for symbolism, since she had ordered them to come to an abandoned factory site near the city border that used to belong Pauline's family. The building itself was shabby, most of the windows were broken and the only door was warped, it's wood rotten.

"Was this place searched?" Perry asked Monroe who stood next to him, the field glasses in his hands. The men had placed themselves between the two cars. In one sat Lorraine, Paul and Della in the other one.

"Of course, but nobody was here. Pauline grew up here, she knows the town. She could have hidden anywhere."

The estate was deserted and awfully silent. On the horizon a new front developed and the wind was extremely cold and piercing.

"Your people are in position?"

"Yes. The second, the girl is free, we'll get her."

Perry looked at the car, in which Della and Paul were sitting. "I have a bad feeling about this," Perry said concerned. "Pauline took care of everything. Why would she risk to get caught now? She knows the police is involved and she didn't order you to stay away."

"Pauline is insane, remember?" Monroe shrugged. "Maybe she thinks, she's invincible."

Monroe went to his police car and reached inside to get his megaphone. Then he checked his watch again. "Let the show begin," he mumbled, positioned himself again next to Mason and raised the megaphone.

"Pauline Straight. Miss Street is here and ready for the exchange. Send the girl out NOW!"

Perry watched Della as she climbed out of the car. She was pale and avoided to look at anyone. As everybody else she was staring at the old building, waiting for something to happen.

Something moved inside and suddenly the barrel of a gun pointed out of one broken window. The small group gasped in shock. Then they heard a voice, which was almost inaudible.

"You have to speak up!" Monroe barked into his megaphone. "We can't hear you!"

Then there was the sound of a shot and Paul pushed himself in front of Della, but the bullet hit the hood of Monroe's car and ended somewhere on the ground.

"The child will leave the building when Miss Street has crossed more than half of the way!" Now they could hear Pauline loud and clearly. Perry narrowed his eyes and detected a head with blond curls behind the broken window, as the gun vanished.

Suddenly Mason sensed Della's eyes on him and he turned his head to face her. For a few seconds it seemed they were alone in the bloody place, but it didn't matter that they were not. No spoken words were needed, as their eyes exchanged what they knew deep down inside.

One moment later and without talking to anyone else, Della started moving. Next to Perry Monroe reached inside his holster and pulled out his gun. Paul did the same. Perry watched Monroe as he reached again through the open window into his car to reach his radio set.

As Della had crossed a great deal of the yard, the old door opened and a little girl stepped outside. Perry heard a repressed scream next to him and startled. He hadn't noticed Lorraine who stood next to him and searched for his hand. He took it quickly and ordered her with a soft squeeze of his hand to be quiet.

Lilly walked slowly, even when Lorraine was hardly able to stand still at Perry's side, Lilly didn't fasten her pace. She kept moving on slowly. Della and the girl passed each other, both stopped for a heartbeat before they continued their way. The wooden door of the factory building opened and a blonde woman appeared outside, a shotgun in her hand. Della['s] formerly determined steps slowed down, but she bravely walked on and as Perry thought he couldn't bear it anymore, things went out of control.

Everything happened fast, too fast, as if Perry could tell what happened first. Later Paul would tell him the details of what had to be the worst seconds of his life, when everything he held dearly was in danger.

Someone barked "Go!" and two dark figures, the FBI agents, stormed out of nowhere across the yard. One grabbed Lilly and carried her out of the way, one armed agent ordered Pauline to give herself up. Impatiently Monroe pushed Mason aside and passed him. A shot rang, Pauline pulled the trigger, several shots echoed through the chaotic situation, Della fell, blood spread across Perry's face and neck. Lorraine yelled something Perry couldn't understand, because his eyes were fixed on Della who lay on the ground and didn't move. His stomach became a stone. And then he ran. He didn't hear Lorraine, as she begged him to stay with her. He didn't hear Paul who yelled for a paramedic and he almost didn't notice that he stumbled over the legs of Gabriel Monroe who lay in a pool of his own blood on the ground.

Shocked, Perry looked up to the door where Pauline had stood just seconds before. She was gone.

* * *

><p>Perry felt as if he was experiencing a dejá vu. Three years ago he had stood in the very same hospital hall. Only this time, Della wasn't the one whose life was in danger. Della was safe and he thanked God for that. With an incredible sense of mind, Della had thrown herself on the ground when Pauline's answering shot to Monroe's unplanned attack had missed her. Pauline's second shot had hit Monroe right in the chest. He was still in surgery, but his loss of blood was immense, Perry's clothes could tell it. And Pauline was gone. To hell with her and her devious plan. Now that she was on the loose again, he knew better than ever that the exchange had been nothing but a red herring, an attempt to divert them. Pauline had planned everything meticulously and then when she had the once in a lifetime chance to get her hands on Della, she blew it up? Perry didn't believe for one minute, Pauline had made a mistake. Something bigger was going on here, something they hadn't even begun to understand.<p>

"Perry!"

Mason looked up and saw Paul hastening towards him.

"Yes?"

"We checked the factory building. Seems there's a system of old tunnels underneath the whole estate. The police found some blankets and leftovers of food down there. They still have to take prints from the tinned food, but we think Pauline was hiding down there."

"That would explain a lot," Perry agreed.

"Indeed. The police is still searching the other tunnels and they also put up road barriers. She can't leave town."

"Let's hope so."

"How are Della and Lilly?" Paul asked.

"The doctors are still examining them, but Lilly seemed healthy. Seems Pauline did nothing to her."

"That's good," Paul commented lowly. "And Della?"

"She's unharmed," Perry answered. "Mae's with her."

"Mae, the vampire in the blood bank," Paul commented dryly. "I hope she won't upset Della. Della was pretty shocked about what happened to Monroe."

"Yes, I still don't understand why he ran straight into this hail of bullets. I thought he was much more experienced than that."

"Yes, that's bugging me as well. Something was wrong with the exchange. From the very beginning."

Perry watched Lorraine as she was packing her suitcase. On the other side of the bed, Lilly was sound asleep. The few scratches she suffered were taken care of and one bandage on her right cheek were the only visible reminder of the last few days.

"I wish you would understand," Perry said lowly.

"Oh, I do understand," Lorraine answered. "You won't leave town until the lunatic is caught and I won't stay here one day longer. I think you're the one who has a problem to understand."

"I do understand you," Perry tried to reassure her. "And I wish I could go back with you to Los Angeles, but..."

"But you can't as long as Della's in danger," Lorraine concluded. She closed the cover of the suitcase and sighed. She sank on the bed and her voice was filled with sadness when she started to speak, "Let's face it, Perry. Our path is parting here. Lilly and I will go as soon as the police has finished questioned us. No matter how hard we try... how hard _you_ try. Della will always be your first priority. The rest of us has to take a backseat. Always."

* * *

><p>Della sat on her couch and starred into the fire. She was tired and her head ached, but she couldn't find any rest. It took all her strength to remain sitting on the couch, instead of pacing the house, but Mae was in bed and the last thing Della wanted, was to wake up the old woman. Since Mae's concern over Della's well being expressed itself with sarcasm and pampering, it was better Mae stayed in her room.<p>

The bottle of whiskey on the coffee table was tempting, but getting drunk wouldn't help to get over today's shooting. No, nothing would work to fight her demons and so she had to face them all alone. Deep inside she wished Perry were there with her, but she knew the wish was childish. Of course, he had to stay with Lorraine and Lilly. But they hadn't had the chance to speak privately since their conversation at the police station.

She looked at the old clock on the mantelpiece. It was almost midnight and Paul hadn't returned yet. She knew he wanted to help the police to search the tunnels underneath the factory, but she couldn't believe they were still at it at this time.

A car that stopped in front of the house seemed to confirm her thoughts. Only moments later, she heard steps on the porch and then Paul knocked.

"Hey, Beautiful," he greeted her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Hi Paul. Where have you been?"

"At the police station." He sighed, as he took off his coat and loosened his tie. "Della, we have a problem."

"What kind of problem?" she asked, a little frightened. She sensed Paul was about to tell her something she wasn't prepared for.

"We found something in Monroe's belongings," Paul explained slowly, while he poured himself a drink. "Something that links him to Pauline."

**~~tbc~~**


	9. Chapter 9

**I know I'm late, but what can I say? My health hasn't been cooperating in the last few weeks and it took me some time (and rest) to get back on track. But here's the next chapter. Enjoy and a big thank you goes to my beta - Gracias!  
><strong>

**Chapter 9**

"So you base your theory on a note the police found in Gabriel's belongings?" Della asked while handing Paul a cup with fresh coffee.

"It's not just _my_ theory," Paul said and sipped his coffee. "Perry and I discussed it and it makes a lot of sense to both of us."

Della shook her head. "Why should Gabriel sacrifice his life for me? We hadn't seen each other in years."

"For the same reason Perry and I would do it," Paul said, his voice all dark and serious now. "You mean something to us."

Della blushed and turned her face away. Her gaze fell on Perry who sat on the couch in the living room, talking to someone on the phone. He was keeping his voice down and she had the highly suspicious feeling that he was trying to keep something from her. When he arrived in the morning he had looked incredibly tired and Della knew without asking him that he hadn't slept a wink last night.

"I still don't believe Pauline blackmailed him into sacrificing himself," Della argued and forced herself to look back at Paul.

"Well, the note we found in his pocket is as evident as the holes she left in his body," Paul said and Della cringed upon his cruel description. Paul produced a small plastic bag out of the pocket of his jacket and placed it on the table.

"The police compared it to a sample of Pauline's handwriting from her time in the mental institution. It's hers. Definitely."

"_It's your choice. Die and Della and the child will be safe. Live and Della and little Lilly will die."_

"Gabriel Monroe died a hero, but that doesn't change the fact that Pauline is still out there and I doubt she'll give up haunting you. Whatever her plan is, it's not finished yet."

* * *

><p>In the sanctuary of his private study Stefan Corro sank back in his chair. The call from his old friend hadn't been as cheerful as he had hoped for. Perry Mason had called him in a time of need and there was no way Stefan would deny his friend's request – as unusual as it was.<p>

The bishop pushed himself forward, picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"This is Stefan Corro speaking. Please, get me Sister Maria Andrea on the phone. It's urgent."

* * *

><p>A little while later Della found Perry on the porch where he smoked a cigarette. Della had wrapped herself in her warmest coat and approached him slowly.<p>

"Care to share one?" she asked, pointing at the glowing cigarette in his hand.

"I thought you've given it up a long time ago," Perry returned surprised.

"Oh I have, but I think I can use one today."

He offered her the package and she took a cigarette. He gave her fire and for some time neither of them spoke, as they both were leaning against the pillar.

"You haven't said anything about Lilly yet," Della reminded him after a while.

"Lilly's okay. A bit shaken, but she's a strong kid."

"That's good. I want to talk to Lorraine again... if she doesn't mind." Della turned her gaze from the end of her cigarette to Perry's face.

"You have to hurry then," he said and sighed. "Lorraine and Lilly will leave as soon as possible."

"And what about you? You can't stay here forever. Neither can Paul. You've got your lives to live."

For a moment he just looked at her, then a smile appeared in his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitched. She would never change, but neither would he.

"Nice try, Miss Street," he said. "Paul and I will go nowhere unless we know you're safe."

"I don't think Lorraine will agree with you. God knows, I wouldn't if I had to walk in her shoes."

"As a matter of fact, she doesn't agree with me," Perry admitted and flipped the end of his cigarette in the snow. "She thinks my priorities lie with anything but her and Lilly."

"Anything?" Della asked.

"You. I can't deny she has a point."

Della abandoned her cigarette as well. "I just remembered why I gave it up," she commented bitterly. "Always leaves a bitter taste in your mouth." She closed her eyes, sighed and then she said,"I never wanted any of this to happen – not to her and not to us."

"Nobody blames you, Della. Not for Gabriel's death or for Lilly's abduction."

"I'm blaming myself," she returned, violently. "And I don't know how to cope with it. I feel helpless and I don't know how to fight Pauline or my own weakness."

"That's what you have me for," Perry said and reached out to touch her arm. "I have a plan."

Della laughed, a piercing laugh that was so unlike her that it cut straight through his heart. But he couldn't tell her that Pauline was succeeding in her devious plan. The woman and her actions were getting to Della's core, her very soul; the part that he loved the most about her. The one thing about her that he believed was indestructible.

"You have a plan?"

"Yes," he answered, almost tenderly and took her gloved hand. "Do you trust me?"

"You know I do."

"I mean do you trust me, no matter what I ask you to do."

"You know I will always trust you."

He squeezed her hand, grateful for her trust. There had been a time when he had believed he would never hear that from her again.

"Let's hope Mae will see it the same way."

"Mae?" Della asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes. You think she'll place her life in my hands?"

They exchanged a knowing smile and then Della said, "Maybe you'll have to work your magic on her. It usually works with old ladies."

* * *

><p>Sister Maria Andrea sat in Bishop Corro's office and listened silently, but highly focused, to his request. Her hands were folded and her index fingers formed a triangle that rested at her chin.<p>

"I know I have no right to ask you, but I'm afraid you're my only hope left?" Stefan said, after he had finished.

"This friend of yours...," she asked. "How long do you know him?"

"We've known each other for a long time. We met at university."

"A good man?"

"One of the best."

"You know when I decided to join the convent I swore I would never look back."

Stefan nodded. "I know, the last thing you want, is to be reminded of your old life, but we can't deny it provides you with skills that are needed right now."

"So you want to entrust me with the life of the woman your friend is in love with. That's hardly an easy task."

Stefan looked up, surprised.

"Who said he's in love with her?

Maria Andrea smiled. "Why else would he go such lengths to save her life?"

"I'm afraid their story is not that easy and certainly not quickly told."

The nun shook her head and rose from her chair. Stefan's eyes followed her as she crossed the room, graceful and collected as always.

"You don't have to. If protecting is what you ask me to do, I will help. No questions asked."

She stopped at the window and looked outside. "I know what he feels like, to know that somebody is out there, ready to kill you or even worse. When will she arrive?"

"Tomorrow."

"I'll be waiting."

* * *

><p>"Lorraine? This is Della Street speaking."<p>

Della sat in the living room, twirling the cable of the phone nervously around her finger.

"Hello Della," Lorraine greeted her.

"How's Lilly?"

"Lilly's fine."

"Perry told me you're about to leave town."

"As quickly as possible."

Della closed her eyes and took her time, before she spoke again, "Lorraine, I'm sorry. For everything."

"Don't be. It's not that I haven't been warned. As for Lilly, she's safe and that's important."

"I wish you the best."

"Thank you and be careful."

Lorraine hung up and for some moments Della just sat there, the receiver still in her hand. Then she finally leaned back and allowed the tears she had been fighting for the last few days to find a way down her face.

**~tbc~**


	10. Chapter 10

**So, here is it. The next chapter :-) My only excuse for the heavy delay is that I was suffering from a serious writer's block after I had written myself into a corner with this story. I hope that's resolved now. I really want to thank everyone who encouraged me not to give up and who reminded me that I still had to deliver this puppy. **

**I also thank my beta Gemenied who did a great job! Every mistake you might find is my entire fault. **

**Chapter 10**

The heavy door closed shut behind her and she couldn't help but feeling locked up. So that was it. That was her hiding place. A nunnery. With a smirk she remembered the countless times, Perry had advised his clients to hide in a motel, registered under their own name. It seemed times had changed. Now he had her booked in a cell in a convent. Her own bodyguard at hand.

"I know our convent appears dark, but you'll get used to it fairly quickly," Maria Andrea said, as if she had read Della's mind. Della let her eyes wander over the stone walls of her new refuge and tried to smile. "I'm sure it will," she answered. "I'm just sorry, I'm disturbing... your peace."

"Oh, you're not disturbing me," the nun assured her swiftly. "I'm glad to be of help. Reminds me of my first life."

"And what did you do in your first life?"

Maria Andrea smiled, but didn't answer. "Let me show you around. We also need you to get a different outfit."

Della's jaw dropped. "You mean... a veil and everything?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so... a veil and... everything."

Della swallowed. She knew it was necessary, but that didn't mean she had to like it. She also knew she was vain to a certain extent and didn't want anyone to see her looking like a nun. But how fat was the chance someone would visit her around here? It was too risky. It was possible she wouldn't see Perry, Paul or anyone else she cared for, for a long time.

"All right," she sighed. "Let's give me a makeover."

* * *

><p>Paul sat in his usual lazy position in Perry's office and played nervously with his lit cigarette. So far everything had worked out as planned. So far, but there was still the same old knot in his stomach that kept him on his toes. To him something just didn't feel right.<p>

In the early morning two cars had left Della's house. In one Della and a FBI agent, dressed up like Perry had been driving and in the other a female agent dressed up as Della with the real Perry at her side. Both cars left for different destinations and since Paul's men had had their eyes on both cars, they could be pretty sure no one had followed Della's car to her new "accommodation".

"I still can't believe you placed her in a nunnery," Paul shook his head, a bit annoyed. He knew the idea was good, but he still had his doubts. Perry stood at the window and stared into the dark afternoon sky.

"There are worse places and it's not forever. Just until we've caught Pauline."

"Let's hope, Pauline won't find out where Della is. Or do you believe some holy walls will protect Della from that nutcase?"

"Not just the walls, but the people inside," Perry explained, as he returned to his desk to help himself for a new cigarette. "A former FBI agent won't leave her side until Pauline is back behind bars."

"A former agent?" Paul asked surprised.

"Yes, she's a nun now, but I'm sure she's capable of taking care of everything."

"A nun with a gun?" Paul joked.

"Something like that," Mason replied with a small smile.

"Once this is over I want to meet her," Paul said.

"She's a nun, Paul."

"I heard you," the PI assured him. "I'm just curios."

The phone rang and interrupted Perry's chuckle. "Yes, Gertie?"

Paul watched the lawyer, as his face darkened and he just listened to the person at the other end of the line. "Thank you. I'll be there as soon as possible."

"What happened?" Paul asked, holding his breath.

"That was the successor of Gabriel Monroe. He's just told me Mae's in the hospital. Apparently she had a stroke."

* * *

><p>"I have to say "the veil and everything" looks quite good on you!" Maria Andrea complimented, as she and Della took a walk around the inner yard of the convent.<p>

"And why do I feel like a prisoner on her daily walk around the yard?" Della asked. It would take her some time to get used to the habit. Not that it wasn't comfortable and she certainly didn't have to worry about her figure as long as she would wear it, but she had the strange feeling that her visual field was soomehow narrowed.

"Maybe we can find you a suitable task. Something that keeps your thoughts away from your problems and the reason you're here."

"Time flies when you're having fun..." Della remarked dryly and the nun laughed.

"Maybe you'll leave sooner than you think and you won't have to get accustomed to anything."

Della sighed and drew a deep breath. It was time to get over her bad mood. A lot of people had gone through a lot of trouble to assure her safety and the woman next to her had been nothing but kind to her.

"I'm sorry," she finally said in a low voice.

"Don't be," the nun said, waving Della's concern away. "I know you've had a rough time."

"Yes, but that's hardly your fault. Nor is it the fault of Bishop Corro."

"Do you know him well?" Maria Andrea asked, somehow throatily.

"The bishop? I'm afraid not, but my boss, Mr Mason and the bishop are old friends."

"And how is he, your Mr Mason?"

Della didn't have to think about her answer. The words streamed out of her mouth, before she knew it. "Kind, gentle, honest, strong."

Maria Andrea smiled, she had expected that description. "Seems the Bishop and Mr Mason have a lot in common." Then she sobered up and added thoughtfully. "I know you don't like the arrangement your boss and mine have made, but you'll soon realize it was actually a good idea. This is not a jail. Underneath our veils we're free souls and free thinkers. Our clothes take the burden off the appearance and transform into something light and unimportant. But aside from your inner world where no one can reach you, if you don't want, our convent is perhaps the one place where that woman won't search for you."

"I appreciate what you're doing for me. What you risk for me. I guess I've just realized I've reached a point in my life, where I don't know what to do or how to go on," Della sighed. "I feel like I am stuck at a dead end."

"Then try to see your stay here as an opportunity to think about what to do. Here you're undisturbed by any outer influence..."

The longer she thought about it, the more Della saw the other woman was right. Maybe her hiding in this unusual place wasn't such a bad idea after all...

* * *

><p>Stefan Corro looked at his tired friend and felt sorry for him. The lawyer had a tough decision to make and the longer he talked about it, the more Stefan wished to help him. But how could he ease the weight that burdened Perry? As always when there was a choice that was hard to make, it wasn't wise to give him advice.<p>

"Have you talked to the doctors?" Stefan asked calmly.

"Yes. They say her condition is serious, but stable." Perry sighed and lit his next cigarette. "The point is, what happens if I don't tell Della? She would never forgive me, if I didn't tell her about Mae's condition. And if I tell her, she'll want to see her aunt. She would have to leave her hiding place and that could put her in danger..."

"Why don't you sleep on it? Sometimes a bit of rest can help us to resolve things," Stefan suggested.

"I don't have to think about it," Mason returned darkly. "I know what Della would want and I have to figure out, if I can live with the consequences in case I decide to go against her wishes."

Stefan rose from his chair and patted Perry's shoulder. "Do as I say. Get some rest and when you know what to do, give me a call."

* * *

><p><strong>One night later<strong>

It was a soft hand that shook her shoulder to wake her. She had really fallen asleep in a chair, a book on her lap, her index finger caught between the pages.

She blinked, a little confused and looked at her watch. It was almost midnight.

"I'm sorry," the nun who had woken her said gently. "But he's here and needs to talk to you. It's urgent."

"All right... thank you, sister."

She put the book aside and looked at the bed on the other side of the room. The woman in there was sound asleep and for a moment she considered waking her up, but then she decided otherwise. At this hour no one would bother her for very long.

"He's in the chapel," the other nun explained lowly.

"Thank you."

The night was cold and when she reached the cloister that was bathed in soft moonlight she felt upper body stiffen. All of her senses went on alert and she fastened her pace, trying harder to ignore the awkward feeling inside her gut. Something was definitely wrong. She felt it. Nightly visits in a convent certainly weren't something that a nun could count into her normal routines. Not even under the present circumstances this visit could mean good news. The old chapel came closer and she saw the door was already open. A few candles lit. The lights that guided her...

She heard the steps behind her, before she realized the shadow building up behind her. So her senses hadn't betrayed her. Instinctively, she raised her elbow, pushed it backwards and hit the person behind her, possibly in the stomach, as the angry groan confirmed. She turned quickly and lifted her leg in the attempt to place a kick at her attacker, but the habit didn't allow her to move the way she wanted. She received a hit against her larynge and for a moment she couldn't breathe. Gasping she tried to push the other person back, but the pain in her throat was too absorbing. And then she felt it. The pain in her abdomen that came out of nowhere. She buckled in pain, unable to breathe, bend forward, uselessly trying to protect her body. The warmth of her own blood ran over her hands as she clasped them against her stomach. Was it really meant to end this way?

The knife fell onto the ground next to her and she noticed the blood that glittered in the soft light of the moon. It was the last thing she saw, before the world around her faded into darkness.

**~tbc~**

**Let me know what you think! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Two weeks later

"_Don't think I've forgotten about you."_

Those few words had been the new mantra in his head, since he had received the note two nights ago. He had stayed in Della's house for the last couple of days, taking care of everything that needed to be done. Of course Pauline had vanished from the face of the earth, after she had pushed the letter underneath the front door, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she was watching him. Even now, though he was alone on the small cemetery. The situation made him sick and angry and woke a coldness within him he didn't know could exist.

It was indeed the feeling of never ending winter that possessed Perry Mason as he stood at the grave, his eyes fixed on the name on the tombstone. The snow was still falling and somehow he doubted it ever stopped being winter in this small town. Della had lived here, had loved the place, although he had come to believe that her feelings would have changed, if she were still here. But she wasn't... Della Street had left this place forever.

_Della Street_

_Loved and unforgotten_

_1931 – 1968_

He thought of Mae, the old woman, now struck with an illness that had brought younger and stronger people into the grave. She was still fighting, but it was a lost fight. All he could do now was to make sure she had everything she needed, was comfortable and well protected.

Paul and he would return to Los Angeles in the afternoon and there he would try to return to his old life. He had lived without Della before and he would do so again. After all everything was just a matter of time.

He sensed he wasn't alone anymore, before he heard the steps approaching from behind. It was Stefan Corro. The priest carried a bouquet of roses in his arm. Perry had never seen his friend looking so lost. Their plan hadn't worked out as they had hoped. The idea of keeping Della safe in one of the convents under Stefan's protection had ended in bloodshed and tears.

"Perry," Stefan greeted the lawyer and enveloped him in an amicable embrace, before he carefully placed the flowers on the grave.

"How are you?" Mason asked, patting the priest's shoulder.

"Better," Stefan answered. "My inner peace is returning. Though slowly, I have to admit."

"I can't tell you how sorry I am for everything."

"I know you are."

Stefan looked pensively at the engraved name on the stone. "I can't believe it... how evil can a person be to want to destroy such a beautiful, friendly creature?"

"Pauline simply blames Della's family for everything that went wrong in her life," Perry explained darkly. "It's an obsession."

"Do you know by now how Pauline knew Della was in the convent?" Stefan asked.

"Not yet... but two nights ago, I've received this." He handed Stefan the letter.

The priest read it, his forehead wrinkled. "That's a serious threat. Shouldn't you be careful?"

The lawyer's voice was dripping with coldness. "If she wants to kill me as well, she won't try it here. She likes the attack on personal ground... it makes her feel superior, more powerful."

"And you want to wait for her?"

"If she wants to find me I won't hide from her. Pauline has taken Della from me not only once, but twice and I'll be damned, if she gets away with it again."

Stefan decided not to comment on that. He knew Mason long enough to know that there was nothing that could break the lawyer's determination once he decided to take action.

"There's something else, Perry... It's Della's aunt. She's bad... very bad. The head nurse called me an hour ago. She thinks Mae's on her way."

"I see." Mason drew a deep breath. It was as he feared. "I'll take care of it. Thanks for telling me."

**~~~~~ 2 days later ~~~~~**

As the night deepened over Los Angeles, Mason was settling in his armchair. The lights were switched off, leaving the room in almost complete darkness. His gun lay on the table in front of him. His eyes were fixed on the door, while his ears were waiting. Sooner or later, he would hear steps nearing the door. All he had to do was wait.

* * *

><p>The air in the hospital room was heavy with narcotics and germicide, but she was used to it by now. The smell was easier to bear than the sound of the beeping machines and the roaring oxygen mask. All she could do now was waiting for the moment, when a part of her life was ending. The doctors had assured her, it would be painless for the patient, but what about her pain? Her pain just never seemed to end...<p>

Again she clutched the lifeless hand that lay on the white sheet and placed a kiss on it. Was it colder than before? She couldn't tell. Everything was revolving around her and she had never felt less safe or less alone. Would it ever end? Was there a light somewhere that she just had to see through the fog of uncertainty and loneliness?

* * *

><p>Paul Drake had always been a man of action. He also used to think that he was featured with the remarkable talent to sense trouble. It was a quality a good detective needed to survive. Why he didn't realize he was in trouble when the doorbell rang at such an unusual time? Maybe because he was used to late night visits due to his profession. And why didn't he check the spyhole before he opened the door? It could have spared him the shock of his life. But at least he knew now what it felt like when the poets said, life could change sooner than we imagined.<p>

**~tbc~**


	12. Chapter 12

_Again I want to thank my beta for her fantastic work! Aside from that I really have thank you for all your lovely reviews and comments. I really appreciate your input! _

**Chapter 12**

Perry sat in the darkness, waiting to meet who could become his master or his mistress. He listened to his own breathing, to his heartbeat while the clock at the wall counted the minutes. There was a certain tension laying in the air, an anticipation that told him, his wait would be over soon. Pauline had promised him she would be after him. He was the last on her list, isolated, after he couldn't protect Della. He was the one who had made sure she would be put behind bars and now she would come back to him.

The longer he had thought about it, the clearer her motive became. Sure, Della was the linchpin for her, the weapon to use, but now that she was gone, Pauline needed to bask in her victory. She needed him, otherwise she wouldn't feel whole.

It was after midnight when he finally heard steps. He stared at the door, heard the low noise of a lock pit, as it turned and worked at the lock. He didn't move, he knew where his gun was. There was no need to give himself away, until she had entered his apartment.

The door creaked repressedly when it opened and closed again. There was the sound of high heels on his floor and the sound of a weapon that was unlocked. That was the moment he switched on the lamp on the small table next to his armchair. The soft light didn't do much to illuminate the room, but it was enough to have a good look at her. It was the first time in years he really saw her. So far they had searched for a phantom, now their nemesis had a face again.

Pauline had altered her appearance. The blond curls were gone and replaced by dark brown hair that was much shorter. Her dress also looked familiar and once his eyes caught the bracelet around her wrist, he knew what Pauline had tried to do, but failed, because there was something about Della Street she could never imitate. Grace and loveliness were traits no one could fake.

"Good evening, Perry," she greeted him, holding a gun in her gloved hand.

"Pauline."

"It's been a long time. Do you like my new outfit?"

"Doesn't seem so new to me," he replied.

Pauline smiled. A smile that didn't reach her eyes. "She didn't even miss it, did she? Took it from her closet weeks ago."

"Let's say it wasn't her favorite."

"Even the bracelet? It has your name engraved into it... but then she hardly wore it. I think you really broke her heart, you know."

He didn't reply, he just stared at her.

"A pity you won't have the opportunity to make up for lost time," she continued in a sweet voice.

"What makes you think so?" Perry asked.

"Because when this night is over at least one of you will be dead!"

Her eyes wandered to the gun on the table. Her smile got brighter, weirder.

"You won't kill me, Perry. You don't have the guts to kill a woman." She sounded confident, though her eyes were carefully watching every movement he made.

"Actually, this was the hardest thing of all. To beat your moral compass, to make sure, the world would know, you're just as human as the rest of us. We all have a dark side within us, Perry. We all can commit a murder, when forced to... we all can fall from grace."

"That's not true, Pauline. There's always a choice."

"And what is mine?"

"Give yourself up."

"And go to the gas chamber? Never. I have a different plan."

"And what could that be?"

Pauline lowered the gun and took a closer look at it. "It's very easy, this gun here belongs into your safe in the law library of your office. It possibly belongs to one of your clients, but that doesn't matter, because your prints are all over it."

Again Perry didn't show any reaction.

"You see, I was pretty disappointed when I couldn't make out where you hid her... that I couldn't be the one to kill her. All I ever wanted was to see how the light left her eyes, once I killed her, but this is so much better... you'll lose either way."

Then everything happened quickly, so fast that he hardly knew what happened. With a few quick steps, Pauline closed the distance between them. She approached his armchair, bent over him and stared into his eyes. The grip of the gun pressed into his chest, hurt him and then there was a shot. Blood soaked his shirt and her body fell heavy onto his, but she was still breathing. And there was just one question on his mind. The only thing that mattered right now.

"That wasn't you in the convent?"

Pauline's tongue licked on small trail of blood from the corner of her mouth.

"I was never there."

* * *

><p>Paul shifted from one foot onto the other, nervously awaiting the moment the elevator doors would finally open. He couldn't remember a time when all of their lives had been so messed up. Like a driver that had lost control over his car, he was chasing over the road, waiting for the moment he crashed.<p>

The doors before him slid open and he stormed out into the hallway. Why did hospitals smelled the same everywhere he went? Pain, death and hope or the loss of it, all mixed up in the same narcotic cocktail.

He found Della in the waiting area at the end of the floor.

"Hey Beautiful!" he greeted her, as he hurried towards her, causing a young couple that sat in the other corner to raise their heads.

"Paul!" Della practically jumped on her feet when she saw him. They shared a tight hug that lasted for several moments, before she pulled back.

"I'm sorry for Mae," Paul said lowly.

Della smiled, blinking a tear away. "She died peacefully, that's more than you can say from the way she lived."

"True. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Thank you, but..." she looked over her shoulder. "My dear friends from the FBI do their best to make sure I'm fine."

Paul followed her gaze and sighed. "That's good. Listen, there's something I've got to tell you."

"Yes?" she asked alarmed, when she realized he was searching for the right words. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes and no," he answered, still hesitating.

"Did something happen to Perry?" she asked, because that was the worst scenario she could imagine. Anything else she could bear.

"Perry's fine... or at least healthy. No Della, it's Pauline. She's dead."

"Dead?" Della asked in utter disbelief.

"Yes... and it looks as if he's killed her, but that's not everything..."

* * *

><p><strong>2 days later<strong>

Perry met Della in Clay's restaurant. Since the owner had changed , only the name remained, the usual customers had been replaced by normal business people who just needed a quick lunch. Times had changed, but it had an advantage: in Della's opinion it was a safe place to meet without getting caught by their former friends and foes of the LAPD. Especially now that her new friends from the FBI followed her wherever she went. She sat at their usual table in front of her nothing but a cup of coffee. Her black clothes underlined the sadness that hung over her like a cloud.

"Hello Della," he said gently, as he slipped into his old seat opposite her.

"Hi," she smiled flatly, warming her hands on her coffee cup. "What did the police say?" she asked.

"Cleared of all charges," he answered. "The forensic evidence supports my statement and the little bugs we planted in my apartment confirm it. It was suicide."

"So that's it?" she asked, her voice all bitter. "Pauline's dead and we're still not free... not as long as we don't know who killed Maria Andrea in the convent." She closed her eyes for a moment and thought about the woman who was buried under the tombstone that had her name engraved. Poor Maria Andrea...

When she opened them again, she managed to smile at him and said, more warmly this time. "I'm sorry. I'm so glad they let you off the hook. I couldn't have lived with myself if they had brought you behind bars!"

"Don't worry, it's all fine now. You never have to fear her again. She's gone." He looked tentatively at her and wished they wouldn't sit in a public restaurant with the eyes of some federal agents laying on them.

She wiped a lonely tear from her face. She was visibly shaken and Perry reached out to touch her hand. It was cold and she startled, but she didn't withdraw. "Yes, but we still can't start to pick up the pieces... what's left." she shrugged.

"Did you talk to Ian?" Perry asked, changing the subject. Not that Della's estranged brother was a lighter subject, but he was still someone they had to deal with.

"Oh yes. The other highlight of my day."

"What happened?" he asked, alarmed by the sarcasm in her voice. He hated to think that Ian gave his sister even more heartache.

"He doesn't want to come to the funeral... he said he's left his old life back behind and there's nothing more important to him than his wife and their new baby"

"He's a father now?"

"Yes. At least one of us makes sure our family won't die out."

"And I thought his blood family meant more to him... did you tell him about Pauline?"

"Briefly... he didn't seem very interested, so I kept the highlights for myself."

"Maybe you should tell him... you could need a brother right now."

Della gave him a look that he couldn't construe. Her eyes seemed tired, but there was also a hint of something that gave more away than sadness. Did he just hurt her?

"I don't know what I need right now", she said lowly. "But it's not Ian Street."

"Will you stay in Los Angeles?" He wanted to ask, "Will you stay with me?" but that seemed too bold.

"It's the only home I've got left, it seems... I'll sell my aunt's house... well it's mine anyway, but I can't live there again."

"Just take your time," Perry said. "I can help you..." his voice trailed off. "If there's anything you need... anything at all, tell me. Will you?"

For the first time today, she didn't avoid his eyes, "I will. I'll call you. But I have to go now... Bye, Perry." Leaving a few Dollar bills on the table, she rose and left the restaurant. Perry looked at the money next to the half empty cup and asked himself when he had lost her. When did he lose her so completely that she didn't even allow him to buy her a simple cup of coffee?

**~~tbc~~**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hugs go to my beta, Gemenied! **

**Chapter 13**

Perry sat in his car and listened to the rain that hit his windshield. He had been waiting for over an hour, which was one of the most silly things he had ever done. He parked in front of Della's apartment house and did nothing but stare at the entrance. After she had left him at Clay's Restaurant he had come to the conclusion that he was a fool and that all he needed to do was to take action. He could get her back, if he just convinced her that he still loved her no matter what. So far the plan.

Unfortunately his "no matter what" mode had been greatly disturbed when he had seen Paul Drake arrive shortly before him. Instantly the jealousy he had experienced several times over the last weeks was back. It hurt like a knife stabbed right through his heart. It didn't matter that he had sent Paul to protect Della or that Paul was his best friend. He was jealous and hurt. He had been up there in her apartment for over an hour now and every minute of this hour had felt like a year.

He lit his next cigarette and blew the smoke against the windshield where it became a cloud and slowly lulled him.

Paul left the building over half an hour later. Perry watched him as the PI hurried to his car, smiling all over his face. Damn him.

* * *

><p>The shower he took did him no good. The hot water almost boiled his neck and back and did nothing to relax him. On the contrary, he became more and more nervous. He couldn't take his mind off Della and the idea that she could have fallen in love with Paul. And what about Paul? Of course, he had a soft spot for Della. She was lovely, beautiful and everything a man could want.<p>

Perry wiped the mirror and stared at his blurry face. Should he talk to both of them? Perhaps tonight? But if he was wrong, how much would be destroyed, if he gave words to his assumption?

He grabbed his robe and went into his bedroom to get a fresh pyjama when the doorbell rang. His watch was still in the bathroom, but he assumed it was after 9 pm. Too late for a normal visit.

Curious and annoyed at the same time, he went to the door and hardly believed his eyes. It was Della, all drippy.

"Good you're here," she said her arms wrapped around her body. Her trench coat was soaking wet and her hair was a mess.

"What happened to you?" he asked, as she walked in.

"It's raining cats and dogs outside," she explained. "I got this wet while running from the side walk to the entrance."

He watched her with growing curiosity.

"Where's your bodyguard?"

"In the hallway... told him to find a chair, because this could take longer."

"I'll get you a towel," he said, ignoring her statement. "Give me your coat."

Della shook her head. "I don't want a towel, Perry... I think we have to talk."

There she was. The woman who had left him only seven hours ago in Clay's restaurant was now standing in his living room and wanted to talk.

"All right... what about?"

"You first... why did you spend the whole afternoon in front of my apartment building?"

The question surprised him and he didn't know what to respond.

"How do you know?" he asked, while he searched for a plausible answer that didn't let him appear like a jealous fool.

"My bodyguards are everywhere," she answered. "Once one gets used to them, they can be quite handy."

"What happened between you and Paul?" he barked, hardly able to keep his voice even. It was a question he had wanted to ask the first evening he had arrived at Della's house, but he had kept his tongue, because he feared the answer. It was also a question that he couldn't ask Paul. The moment he did, it would stand between them forever, and there would be nothing that could mend the rift between him and his best friend.

"Well, Counselor," Della sounded almost amused, as she crossed her arms over her chest. "If we were in court I would object now and demand that you rephrase your question."

"And why's that?" he asked, more than just a little curios.

"Your question should be 'Did something happen'," Della explained. "Your question is leading the witness."

"Sustained," Mason agreed mildly. "So... did something happen between Paul and you?"

"No."

Perry breathed in and he suddenly realized how tense he had been since she had entered his apartment.

"And if you dare to ask me why not, I'll walk through this door of yours and never return!" she added darkly. He could tell she was dead serious and so he decided to oblige.

"I won't," Perry shook his head. "I'm sorry, but..."

"It was eating you up, but instead of asking us, you ran around, building this wall up around you."

Now he was the one who was getting angry, his hands, secured in the pockets of his robe clenched into fists.

"I built walls around me? What about you? You walked out of my life three years ago and never let me come close to you again!" he had raised his voice and for a moment she seemed dumbfounded. She licked her lips before she finally mumbled, "You never tried to... and we both know why." She swallowed, but her eyes held his gaze. Were they finally – after the last few weeks – getting to the bottom of everything?

"Enlighten me, please, because I fail to see your point."

He sank onto the rest of his couch and looked at her. He noticed she seemed much more confident than just a few hours ago. At their meeting in the afternoon, she had seemed much more unstable and shaken. Now she was almost her normal self.

And she was right in one point. He hadn't run after her, when she left Los Angeles, but as he had seen it, there was nothing he could have done to keep her with him.

"I was pregnant, after we spent one night, one single night together and, always the gentleman, you asked me to marry you," Della resumed.

"Something you agreed to," he reminded her.

"Yes, and then I lost our baby... there was no reason to get married anymore." Her shrug bothered him to no end. Marriage wasn't something one should shrug away like this, but Mason reminded himself that she never said or took things lightly. Maybe she had invested much more thought in their relationship than he knew. Maybe she had grown tired over it. God knew, he was tired of the uncertainty.

"I love you and when I asked you to marry me, it didn't happen out of... obligation or false commitments, although I admit that you being pregnant ramped up my decision."

"Yes, but as your wife and without your baby I would hardly be in the position to see an awful lot of you... I would wait for you to come home and sooner or later I would get tired of waiting, because let's face it, as long as people get falsely accused, you'll be out there, defending them at every cost... because that's who you are... it's what you do and I love you for it, but I was afraid I would hate you for it sooner or later, if we went down that road..." her voice trailed off.

"We could have found a way," Mason returned, much calmer now. He saw her point, but he couldn't accept the sacrifice it contained. It wasn't worth it. There was always a way.

"I'd rather stay away, than being pushed aside," Della said.

"You've made that point rather clear in the last couple of years. The question is... what about now? Why are you here?"

She sighed, tears building up in her eyes, "Because I'm tired of making my point."

"Is it really that easy?" he wanted to know and rose again. She didn't move, just waited for him to do to something. For some moments he just watched her, uncertain, undecided. They had gone through so much and they had survived it, they had changed a little and yet they stayed the same. They were still there, on the same page, weren't they? Love wasn't the question between them, it never was. Question was how to live with it. How to live it. And he thought he had the answer.

With two swift steps he closed the distance between them and kissed her. He pulled her into his arms and possessively captured her mouth. His kiss was demanding, hungry, desperate to make up for the time they lost and she gave in, ready to accept that there was no way she could ever be happy without him.

* * *

><p>Hours later his fingers ran lazily over her spine, causing a slight, but deliciously arousing tickle underneath her skin.<p>

"You won't let me rest, will you?" she purred with a content smile on her face.

"No..."

"The poor guy in the hallway won't be happy about me," she said and placed a kiss on his chest.

"Want me to give him a chair, because there's no way you'll leave this bed for the rest of the night."

* * *

><p>Paul Drake didn't often wonder about Perry Mason. He knew the lawyer was one of the most unusual men he ever met, but the one thing he usually did, was taking his calls. But today Mason didn't answer his phone in the office or at home. Even his secretary didn't know where or how to reach him and Paul decided to take his chance. After all he had to tell to best friend the most exciting news ever and Paul was sure, Perry could need some cheering up. Armed with some bagels, he made his way up to Perry's apartment and was surprised to find a FBI agent sitting next to Perry's door.<p>

"Morning," Paul greeted him with a crooked eyebrow. "Long night?"

"Longer," was the yawned answer.

"Bagel?"

"Thanks."

The agent helped himself to a bagel and Paul knocked at the door. When nothing happened, he knocked louder and just before he wanted to go downstairs again to call Perry, the door opened and Della, only wearing one of Perry's shirts looked up to him.

"I caught the wrong day, didn't I?" He asked with a knowing look.

"That's a bad habit of yours," she answered and waved him in. "Coffee's ready soon."

"You better have enough," Paul said with a cracked smile. "The poor guy in the hallway is falling off his chair."

**~~tbc~~**


End file.
